I’ve never done it. Actually, that’s a lie. I’ve done it once, because I had to. Because I had to keep track of what I was doing, what I was thinking, and what I had to remember. But I hated every second of it. Hated every single time I had to put a mark down on those pages.
Weird concepts, the world is full of them. On daily basis I can be fascinated as well as surprised by things I see or observe. In nature, in politics, and mostly: in people.
People are full of weird concepts. I am full of weird concepts. I am full of weird concepts, therefore I am? I’m not sure, but that seems to sound right in one way or another. I’d like to make these observations, share them, hear what other people think about them. So every now and then I plan on reflecting on things I’ve run into and that have left me speechless as well as fascinated. The human behaviour and surroundings is full of things one can reflect on in this way, and through them I’d like to learn and grow as much as possible.
It’s silent. It is always silent here. A rural area, farmlands everywhere, small villages with sturdy inhabitants that live with nature and the direct surroundings. The only “foreigner”, beside the many English that buy more and more houses in this region, is a 70+ year old farmer. His roots lie in Bretagne, he is “different”. There was a time he wasn’t alone, that just a couple of kilometers away another person from his home region lived here. But she was older than he, although just as sturdy. Even right before her death she managed a great kitchen garden, slaughtered her own chickens for dinner, milked a goat, only for fresh bread she had to wander into town. She might have been a foreigner in this region, she was as French as that fresh baguette that was preferred on her table.